


UTC plus nine

by anirondack



Series: 10 Kinks Challenge [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anirondack/pseuds/anirondack
Summary: Yuuri leans against the low wall, then sits on it. He rolls one ankle, and then the other. A light breeze plays along his face. His phone buzzes in his jacket pocket.He digs it out and sees a text from Victor, so he swipes it open and then drops his phone on the ground.Victor is the master of nudes. Yuuri is easy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the 10 Kinks Challenge. Kinks are "phone sex" and "dirty talk".
> 
> Sorry this one is up late y'all, last night someone broke the back window of my car so I didn't actually get home until around one thirty in the morning. It's been a kind of a dumpster fire of a week really, so if y'all could leave some sweet comments on this one, I think it would cheer me up a lot. 
> 
> I wrote pretty much all of this this morning, so errors are my own and I'll catch them asap.

Yuuri walks down the street in Hasetsu and breathes for what feels like the first time in weeks. An older couple passes by him going the other direction and they both give him soft smiles; he returns them, unsure if they’re being polite or they recognize the image of him with a Nationals gold hanging around his neck from the news.

It’s been a couple of days since most countries’ Nationals had ended. Yuuri finished with a gold and little competition, and the train station in Hasetsu had all new posters to put up, flashing his Grand Prix silver. Yuuri finds it incredibly embarrassing, but people have rushed up to him with notebooks and sharpies and he’s signed them with only a mild blush and even a smile.

It’s getting toward evening now. Yuuri had gone for a jog along the beach to stretch his legs out and he smells pleasantly like the salty air now. Sand clings to the edges of his shoes and he ties his jacket around his waist. The chill bites at his arms, but it feels good - not the threat of snow, but the reminder of winter. It wicks away extra body heat and it feels luxurious, almost, like a cool shower.

Yuuri gets to the turn that will lead him home, but he walks past it. He needs to stretch his quads out more, so they don’t seize up and make loosening them in the morning that much more difficult. He does a couple of lunges as he walks next to a low brick wall, sinking his knee to the ground and standing up and sinking down again, and then keeps on. A group of kids, maybe fourteen, maybe siblings, runs past him toward the beach. The sun is going down, and the beaches don’t close until after that in the winters.

Yuuri leans against the low wall, then sits on it. He rolls one ankle, and then the other. A light breeze plays along his face. His phone buzzes in his jacket pocket.

He digs it out and sees a text from Victor, so he swipes it open and then drops his phone on the ground.

Yuuri throws himself after it - it landed face down, but he could believe that the image could somehow project itself out through his camera like a hologram. He lands on his knees, the phone between his legs, and quickly checks that the screen’s not broken before he looks at what’s actually on it.

Phichit has a reputation for taking good selfies, but Victor is not to be discredited. He’s set up the perfect angle and the perfect lighting and the perfect slightly smug but mostly beautiful and open expression to show off his fully erect cock.

Yuuri feels all of his blood smash into itself as it tries to figure out whether to go up or down. After a quiet war, it settles for up, and his face burns. He hides the phone against his chest and looks around, then quickly swipes a reply.

 _> Victor!!  
_ _> what was that for? _

Yuuri doesn’t really know what he’s expecting as an answer - certainly not an apology - but his cheeks flush even darker when Victor’s reply is a follow-up picture. His face is missing, and Yuuri mourns that for a fraction of a second, but his hand is curled around the base of his cock now, holding it up so that Yuuri can see the thick vein underneath. Yuuri bites the tip of his tongue hard, and his mouth waters, or maybe it happens the other way around.

 _> Victor I’m in public right now.  
_ _> I just went for a run. _

He prepares for the worst, but when a third picture comes in, it’s of Victor’s face and chest. He has the most self-satisfied look on his face that Yuuri has possibly ever seen. What’s worse is that his chest has a gentle flush on it. Yuuri knows from their brief couple months of experience together that Victor’s chest flushes beautifully when he’s aroused - Victor has been up to this for a while.

Yuuri touches his fingertip to the picture and it zooms in. It gives him an excellent view of Victor’s right eye and his bangs, which need to be trimmed, and the point of his nose, which Yuuri likes to press kisses to. His phone vibrates and so does the image, and Yuuri minimizes it and is hit in the face with another picture of Victor’s cock, fucking up into his fist. It’s a little blurry, probably from the motion, and there’s a little shadow under Victor’s waist and back that shows off how he’s arching up off the bed.

The blood in Yuuri’s face slowly starts backpedalling downwards.

_> Victor I’m outside anyone could see these!! _

He quickly saves each picture - he’s embarrassed, not _dead_ \- and then deletes them all from the text thread, just in time for another one to pop up. Victor’s cock is still in frame, but blurry - it’s Victor’s face that has all the focus now, and there are two fingers in his mouth, spread just enough that Yuuri is _sure_ that Victor’s tongue is between them. His free hand grips the wall he’s sitting on tightly - is Victor doing that just for show? Or is he about to finger himself? Surely not, Victor spends hilarious amounts of money on lube and he wouldn’t give up the opportunity to use any of it. Maybe he’d gotten his fingers messy and was licking him clean and– Yuuri’s cheeks burn again. He rubs his face with his free hand, then glances at his phone again, worried. Victor’s cock stares back at him, and Yuuri just looks at it for a while. He’s expecting more, and he waits for it, even though people pass by - one man on his phone, a woman and her young daughter, they walk right past Yuuri without pausing to wonder why Yuuri’s face is so red and the hand gripping his phone is shaking.

He waits and waits, motionless, sitting on the little half wall, until his phone buzzes again. He nearly drops it as he thumbs open the picture, and then closes it instantly. He gets a flash of Victor burying two fingers inside himself, and that’s the worst part until Yuuri can bring himself to open the picture again. He can see how wet Victor is (and the edge of one of the fancier bottles of lube, Victor spares no expense on himself) and how his skin glistens with slick and how his fingers crook up inside himself. There’s no face to be seen, no expression to read or chest flush for Yuuri to lick at. There’s just Victor, fingering himself open and showing Yuuri, and Yuuri, who’s sitting on a foot wall in the middle of Hasetsu, surrounded by people, with an erection.

_> Vitya!!! _

Yuuri feels rooted to the spot. He curls in on himself a little, lifting one foot up onto the wall and leaning his chest against his thigh to try to hide the new bulge in his running pants. He leans his chin on his knee, trying to look casual, and saves and deletes that picture too, just in time for an actual text message to come in.

 _< I miss you Yuri what am I supposed to do?  
_ _< I miss feeling you within me. _

Yuuri’s eyes widen a little and he slams the phone against his chest, like he’s afraid anyone will see _that_. His heart is hammering in his chest and his cock is decidedly very interested in the whole situation without his permission. He just holds the phone for a moment, breathing, kind of willing everything to stop, and then his phone buzzes again. Yuuri stares down at the blank screen, almost afraid to look, but he looks anyway.

It’s a similar picture to the one before, at a different angle. Victor still has fingers inside himself, his wrist blurred from a particularly visible thrust. His cock is lying fat and flushed against his belly, and Yuuri’s mouth definitely waters from the picture this time. The picture has a message attached.

_< I miss your face Yuri can you show me? _

It’s dark out now, but there’s a streetlight a few yards away. Yuuri slips off the wall without thinking, then pulls his jacket off and folds it over his arm and holds it in front of him. He doesn’t know how much it hides, but it’s better than nothing at all.

He stands under the streetlight and opens his front camera and takes a picture. Even with the faint blue of the light, he can tell that he’s red - maybe he can play it off as a flush from his jog. But, knowing Victor, probably not.

It’s not a great picture, but he sends it anyway, and nearly instantaneously gets a bubble full of heart emojis. That makes Yuuri smile, and then he covers his face with his hand when Victor texts again.

 _< That is the only thing that’s been getting me through this week without you.  
_ _< I miss your beautiful face. _

Yuuri’s grin nearly hurts with how wide it is, but he sends a heart emoji back. Victor responds with several more, and then, regretfully, two more pictures.

The first one is just fine, it’s Victor’s face and he’s beaming at the camera like it’s actually Yuuri. Yuuri saves that one to his main picture folder and thinks about making it his phone background. The second one, though, is a high angle, and Yuuri can see the edge of Victor’s arm as he holds his phone up. He gets a full view of most of Victor, who is lounging in the bed that Yuuri is going to be sleeping in every night next month, a towel under his hips, two bottles of lube next to him, flushed all the way down to his belly and arching up to show off just how hard he is. The skin between his thighs is slick, and so are little spots on his stomach.

Yuuri nearly drops the phone again. The streetlight feels like a spotlight as he leans against the pole.

_> When I die in the street in Hasetsu, they’re going to find my phone as evidence _

Delete.

_> I wish I was there to help out with that _

Delete.

_> What are you thinking about _

Delete.

Yuuri stares at his keyboard, trying to arrange the English characters into something that makes sense. His phone vibrates again.

He curses softly.

Victor is clearly fucking up into his own hand again. There’s actual motion blur now, and the angle is tilted - is it really so good that Victor is going to drop his phone? Yuuri turns his screen off, then turns it back on and saves the picture and deletes it, and then sees the message that came with it.

_< Yuri I need you. _

Yuuri stands up abruptly. His jacket swings in front of him. He ties it awkwardly around his hips so the arms hang over the now incredibly obvious bulge in his running pants. He shoves his phone into the pocket and zips it up so that he can’t think about it anymore. It’s maybe a half a mile home, and if he looks at his phone one more time, he’s not sure he’s going to make it.

The jog home is a little difficult. It’s not like Yuuri has never run with an erection before - he was a teenager once who got up early to work out before school - but it’s never comfortable and his running pants are now on this side of too tight and they’re… stimulating. Yuuri can’t remember if this was ever a problem before, but god help him, it’s a problem now. A problem that he is not going to mention to Victor, ever.

He makes it home in ten minutes, which isn’t a record by any means but is faster than he would have otherwise. Mari is clearing dishes from the main room and she gives him a little nod. Yuuri nods back and turns his back to her to sidestep the tables and then practically sprints to his room and slams the door behind him. He leans against it and his phone buzzes by his thigh and when he takes it out of his pocket, he has seven new messages and his heart sinks even as his cock rises.

 _[image: Victor’s hand wrapped around his cock again, thumbing at the head, which is noticeably slick]_  
_< This would be so much better if you were here Yuri._  
_< I wish it were you here touching me._  
_[image: Victor licking his palm, which is also noticeably slick]_  
_[image: Victor pressing three fingers into himself; his index and middle fingers are comfortably seated inside him, and his ring finger is crooked out a little, hidden to the first knuckle, as he adjusts to the stretch]_  
_[image: all three fingers disappearing inside Victor with little effort]  
_ _< Yuri I need you so much. _

Yuuri stares, and then drops his phone on the ground. He’s a little sticky with sweat and he badly wants to take a shower, but he can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his cock and when he reaches one hand down the front of his running pants to grind his palm against it, the sigh of relief it drags out of him pushes the need away. He tugs off his shirt and throws it in the direction of the laundry, toes off his shoes, grabs his phone, and then throws himself onto his bed.

His thumb is on the _call_ button before he even realizes he’s doing it.

The connection only rings twice before Victor picks up. “Yuuri,” he breathes, like it’s being punched out of him.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, half an octave higher than usual.

“Yuuri, you made me wait,” Victor says. He’s far too breathless to sound accusing. If Yuuri listens closely, he can hear a soft, rhythmic, slick sound in the background. His whole body feels hot.

“I went out for a run, I told you.”

“So late?”

“It’s only about five now.”

In lieu of response, Victor moans quietly. Yuuri’s entire brain shuts off for a second, and then comes back online with the frantic desire to hear that sound again.

“What are you– doing?”

He cringes as soon as the words come out of his mouth - what does he _think_ Victor’s doing? – but Victor just lets out a shaky breath. “Fingering myself,” he murmurs. His voice is pitched low, and it sends electric little shivers down Yuuri’s spine. “Imagining that it’s you. I miss your touch so badly, Yuuri, how am I supposed to survive until after Christmas?”

Yuuri’s fingers curl into his blanket and squeeze. He takes a deep breath in, and then slowly lets it out. “I miss you too. It’s only for another week and a half.”

“That’s too long,” Victor whines.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Fate has conspired against us-s-s.” Victor breaks off in a hiss, and then there’s another soft moan. Yuuri’s hand finds itself on the outline of his cock, grinding against it through his running pants.

“What did you just do?”

“I found what I was looking for,” Victor murmurs. “Tell me, Yuuri, what are _you_ doing?”

“Lying in bed.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” Yuuri lies. Then, “No.”

“Oh no?”

“I’m– I’m. Over my…”

“Yuuri, you’re touching yourself too,” Victor purrs. He snaps from breathless to breathy so easily. “Aren’t you?”

Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut.

“Tell me, Yuuri.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, Yuuri?”

“I’m– touching myself.”

“Over your clothes?” Victor prompts.

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take those off for me?”

“I– what?”

“You’re still dressed from your run, yes?”

“Yeah.”

There’s more of that soft, rustling sound in the background. Yuuri strains for it. “Take your running clothes off. For me. Please.”

“I– uh. Okay. Hang on.” Yuuri sets his phone down gently, then squirms out of his running pants and kicks them onto the ground. He throws his socks after them, then lies back on the bed. His heart is racing so much faster than it was even a few minute ago. “I did it.”

“All of it?”

“Uh– no, not everything. Just the pants.”

“Yuuri, you’re still teasing so far away!” Victor sounds so forlorn about it that Yuuri has to laugh. “Will you take it all off for me? I would do it myself, but I’m trapped here away from my Yuuri and I can’t.”

“Well… if you insist,” Yuuri says. He awkwardly shoves one side of the waistband down his thigh, and then the other, until he can wiggle them down to his knees. “ _All_ the way off?”

“Yuuuuri,” Victor whines. “ _Ah_.”

Yuuri’s blood gets a little hotter and he kicks his underwear off onto the bed next to him. “Okay. I did it.”

“Can I see?” Victor asks, then quickly adds, “Not that I don’t believe you. I just miss you.”

“Yeah, let me just…” Yuuri minimizes the call and opens the camera app instead. He doesn’t take pictures of himself very often, let alone naked ones, so he knows he’s blushing as he holds his phone above his body. He can’t get all of him in the shot, so he takes two - one of his face and chest, which is similarly flushed like Victor’s, and one of his chest and his hips and his thighs, his cock nestled against the point of one hipbone. He sends those both to Victor and puts the phone back to his ear, and he can hear when Victor’s phone vibrates and then Victor’s sharp intake of breath.

“Yuuri, you are absolutely unfair.”

“You asked,” Yuuri says, smiling a little.

“How the universe could be so cruel as to keep me from you, I don’t understand.” There’s a snapping noise in the background - a lube cap, Yuuri’s twitching cock fills in for his brain - and then a soft, shuddery sigh, and then the slick sounds get louder and wetter. “Yuuuuri…”

Yuuri swallows hard. “Victor.”

“Will you touch yourself with me?”

Yuuri’s hand is halfway to his cock before he even registers the sentence. “Yeah. Yes.”

Victor sighs again, in satisfaction this time. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours, Yuuri.”

“Hours?”

“Well… maybe half an hour.”

Yuuri laughs. “That’s not hours.”

“It felt like hours. Any time apart from my Yuuri’s glorious cock is infinite.”

Yuuri chokes a little, and he squeezes the base of his cock tightly. “Victor, god…”

“I just miss it so much.” Victor’s voice is a low, velvety rumble again, punctuated occasionally by soft breaths. “I miss touching it… I miss feeling the weight of it in my mouth… You have such a lovely cock, Yuuri, it’s a crime for us to be separated.”

Yuuri closes his eyes and lets his cock slide slowly through his fingers. His hips roll up in slow thrusts and he can feel himself getting a little wet already.

“Tell me what you’re doing, Yuuri, I have to know.”

“I’m, um. Thrusting,” Yuuri says, and then makes a face. “Into my hand. Slow.”

Victor makes a slightly strangled noise that makes Yuuri’s blood heat even more. He feels proud, under the embarrassment, to have been the cause of that. “Tell me.”

“Um…” Yuuri glances down at himself. “I’m not really… moving my hand. Letting my hips do all the work.”

“ _Ah-h-h_.” Yuuri swallows thickly. Victor moans again, more muffled this time. There’s some scratching sounds on the other end, and then the wet, slick sound gets louder again.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asks.

“Imagining you,” Victor replies immediately. “Imagining you spreading me open. Preparing me for you.”

“God… Do you have a– a toy?”

“Not today. I only want you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s whole body shivers a little. Victor does sound like a mess, and the idea that it’s all because of Yuuri…

“You can have me. Whatever you want.”

“Yuuri?”

“I wish you were the one touching me too,” Yuuri says, a little bolder. “I wish it was you doing this to me.”

There’s a pause, and then Victor laughs shakily. “Yuuri, you can’t do this to me.”

“Tell me,” Yuuri rushes on anyway. He can’t talk, but he can listen. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything for you, Victor.”

More silence, and then a soft Russian curse. “Are you on your back?”

“Yeah, lying on my bed.”

“Stop touching your cock for a moment. Can you put this on speaker?”

“I live in an inn with my parents,” Yuuri says, scandalized. “Hold on.”

He drops the phone on the bed and scrambles over to his desk, digging around in drawers. He finds a set of earbuds with a microphone that came when he bought his new phone and rushes back to the bed and plugs them in, stuffing the buds in his ears.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can. What did you do?”

“Earbuds with a microphone. So I can use two hands.”

“Yuuri! My Yuuri is so clever,” Victor says. He could be proud, but it’s kind of undercut at how he’s panting softly. “Are you on the bed again?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri reaches behind him and adjusts his pillow. His forces him to stare down at his own body again. He tries to look at it the way Victor does.

“Good. Now, just touch your chest for me. Both hands.”

Yuuri does, resting his hands flat on his chest, fingertips digging gently into his pectorals and then stroking down to his abdomen and back up. He thumbs one nipple as he passes it and accidentally hisses and bites his tongue.

“Yuuri?”

“I, um. Touched a nipple.”

“Right, I forget how sensitive you are there.” Victor suddenly sounds slightly devious. “Touch them both.”

“I– okay.” Yuuri shifts the microphone on the earbuds so it’s resting on his sternum, and then lets his fingers circle around both of his nipples before he rolls them gently between his fingers. Even though he was expecting it, it’s like a shock to his system, and his hips snap up and he cries out softly before he manages to bite it back.

“Oh, Yuuri.” Victor sounds quietly in awe. “That’s very good. Do it again.”

Yuuri keeps doing it, squeezing gently, rolling the sensitive skin back and forth. He digs his teeth into his lower lip, but a soft whimper comes out anyway. It must sound scratchy to Victor, but Victor curses anyway.

“Yuuri, you sound so good. Which side does it feel better on?”

“Um… the left? I guess?”

“Okay. Keep doing it there, then and touch your cock with your other hand.”

Yuuri groans quietly, but he does what he’s told. He slides his hand slowly along his abdomen, presses his knuckles into the softness around his belly. He scratches gently at his hip and listens to the sound of Victor breathing, quiet but definitely faster than usual. He wonders what Victor’s doing right now - he can’t hear much on the other end because of how loud his own blood is in his ears.

He takes his cock in hand, just holding it, feeling the weight of it like Victor might. “Okay. I’m doing it.”

“Touch yourself slowly, okay? Stroke yourself, but don’t do it fast.”

“Okay.” Yuuri makes a loose fist again, then slowly drags his hand upward. The friction sticks a little until he gets to the head, and he’s leaking enough that the drag back down is much easier. “Ah, Victor, I’m– wet.”

He’s embarrassed as soon as he says it, but then Victor’s sharp intake of breath makes it worth it. “Yuuri,” he murmurs. “Are you enjoying this that much?”

“I like listening to you,” Yuuri admits.

“Do you,” Victor says thoughtfully. “Go faster now. A little bit.”

Yuuri nods to no one and starts stroking himself a little faster. His own precome makes things easier, and he lets out a shuddering breath as his palm closes around the head and makes a little circle, rubbing around the glans and tugging back the foreskin.

“Yuuri, you sound incredible,” Victor murmurs. There’s a different type of sound on Victor’s end now, still soft and wet but faster than before. Yuuri wonders briefly what Victor’s doing to himself, but then Victor says, “Lick your palm,” and all his thoughts go out the window.

“What?”

“Taste yourself.”

Yuuri slowly brings his hand to his face, then licks a quick stripe up his palm. He’s tasted himself before, by accident and on purpose. It’s alright to him, but Victor sounds breathlessly excited when he asks, “How is it?”

“Mm… Salty. Kind of… musky.”

“Oh,” Victor says quietly. “Oh, Yuuri.”

“You want it, don’t you?” Yuuri says impulsively. "You want to taste me."

“Yuuri, you’re so cruel,” Victor whines. The sounds in the background leave nothing to the imagination anymore - Yuuri knows that Victor is jerking himself off, fast and with little finesse, slicked with someone his stupid, fancy lube, his hips thrusting upwards to meet his own palm…

Yuuri blinks. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor huffs. “I told you how badly I wanted you in my mouth.”

Yuuri shudders a little and nods. He reaches back down to keep touching himself, a little easier than before. “What would I do?”

“You’d hold my hair back,” Victor says without hesitation. “You would take a big handful of it and pull. And you’d… Mm. You’d trace the head of your cock along my lips, and I would open my mouth for you, and you would keep doing it. You’re such a tease, Yuuri.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says dumbly.

“You would make me all wet for you,” Victor continues shamelessly. “You would rub all over my mouth, to let me have a taste before the main course. And I would beg for it, Yuuri, would you give it to me?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says immediately. He’s squirming up into his own hand now, bucking shallowly. He twists at his nipple and keens low in his throat. “Yeah, I would, Anything, Vitya. Of course.”

“Oh, you would make that sound too,” Victor says. “When I opened my mouth and let you slide in. I would take you so deep, Yuuri, it’s a privilege to be surrounded by you.”

“Oh, fuck, Victor–”

“I would swallow you, Yuuri. You would consume me.” Victor’s breathing is uneven now, from exertion and perhaps being close. Yuuri feels the same, panting out soft whimpers as he squeezes his nipple hard and squeezes his cock to match.

“You want me to fuck your mouth,” he says unsteadily. “To hold you by the hair and just… let go.”

“Yes, Yuuri, yes,” Victor pants. “I want you to take me, the second you make it to Russia. I want to taste you on my lips for days after–”

“Victor–”

“I want to kiss you with your come in my mouth, I want you to taste yourself–”

“Oh, fuck,” Yuuri breathes. He can imagine it, can practically taste it – Victor’s spit-slicked lips moving against his own, their tongues brushing together, the taste of them mingling and becoming unique. Victor pushing him down on his enormous bed, kissing him senseless and toying with his nipples and driving him out of his mind in seconds.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” Victor says. It’s nearly a growl. Yuuri freezes. “I can’t wait to have you everywhere in this apartment. We’ll make it ours, Yuuri.”

“I– Victor, god…”

“I won’t last until we get to the bedroom, Yuuri, I know this already. We’ll be lucky if one of us remembers to close the front door.”

Yuuri laughs, almost hysterically. He can taste his heartbeat in his mouth. “Victor…”

“I’ll push you against the wall and get on my knees for you. It’s been so long since I’ve been allowed to taste you.” Victor’s voice is breaking now, tiny pauses being fucked into his sentences by his own hand. He takes a shaky breath and Yuuri mirrors it. Yuuri feels like he’s on fire, and his body is aching with warning.

“I want you to fuck me against the door,” he blurts out. “As soon as we get back.”

“Yuuri–”

“I want you so bad, Vitya, I couldn’t wait either. Right against the door, I know you’re strong enough, I know you could hold me up, I know you could–”

“Yuuri, Yuuri-!” Victor abruptly cuts off, and Yuuri stares at his ceiling with wide eyes and he hears nothing and then a sharp, gasping moan as Victor comes all over himself. He swears he can hear the wet sound of come against skin, Victor’s hand still moving  over his cock, dragging out the pleasure even as he becomes oversensitive.

Yuuri hears Victor whimper softly, then shudder out another breath. It’s too much. His whole body is alight.

“Yuuri,” Victor says. His voice is raspy. Yuuri wonders just how loud he was being. “Come for me, Yuuri, give it to me.”

“Oh,” Yuuri breathes, and then he does. It’s almost unexpected, but it’s so easy, like there was a string inside him that Victor snapped, and his hips are suddenly stuttering in his grasp. He comes all over his belly, streaking white over muscles that are standing out with exertion. He pants Victor’s name over and over and distantly hears _yes, Yuuri, yes_ as he strokes himself frantically through it. His whole body is trembling and when it’s over, he gasps, several times, trying to catch his breath as he shakes.

“Victor,” he mumbles.

“Yuuri.” Victor sounds awed. “Yuuri, you’re terribly beautiful, you know?”

“I’ve heard that somewhere,” Yuuri grunts, then runs a finger through the mess on his stomach. He wipes his hand on his underwear. “I miss you.”

“Oh, Yuuri. I miss you too.”

“Just a couple more weeks.”

“Ten more days.”

Yuuri sighs. He feels warm and buzzy now, but gently achey, because Victor isn’t here to clean him up and nuzzle at his neck like usual.

“I can make it ten more days,” he announces to the ceiling.

“I hope I can,” Victor replies softly.

Yuuri’s heart squeezes a little. “You can. I– dinner is soon, and I need to go shower, but I’ll call you, okay? I’ll call you on Skype. You can watch me get ready for bed.”

“I would love that,” Victor says. He sounds unbearably fond, like there’s nothing he wants more than to watch Yuuri brush his teeth.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you in an hour or so.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Good night, Victor.”

“Good morning, Yuuri.”


End file.
